


The Meeting

by WPAdmirer



Series: Chicago Stories II [6]
Category: E.R., X-Files - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-21
Updated: 2011-02-21
Packaged: 2017-10-15 20:09:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/164512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WPAdmirer/pseuds/WPAdmirer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Walter meet with Grandpa Carter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTES: I got tired of waiting for some good John Carter slash, and there's never enough Skinner fic to suit me.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: It's not the author's intention to infringe upon or profit from the characters created and owned by Chris Carter, 1013 Productions or the Fox Network, nor Warner Brothers and NBC. Skinner and Carter were borrowed temporarily and returned almost immediately.
> 
> SPECIAL THANKS: To KiMeriKal and Crysothemis for beta reading and friendship.

The house was a mansion. A servant met them at the door, greeting John Carter warmly. A warmth that was not forthcoming from Robert Carter. He sat at his desk, his face set in what appeared to be a perpetual scowl. John stepped into the room and his manner changed completely. Walter watched as John's face went blank, the light in his eyes disappeared. He was throwing up a well-worn mask. Walter wasn't sure what it was to cover, fear, anger?

Walter reached out without thinking and touched John's arm. John seemed to lean into the touch, but his expression never changed. He was focused on the man at the desk.

"Sit down, Johnny." The man's voice was thin and regal. He was obviously used to being listened to. Used to commanding attention and obedience.

Walter knew what that felt like.

They crossed the room, their footfalls muffled by thick rugs. The chairs in front of the desk were expensive, leather. Walter sat down and settled back into the chair, realizing as he did how much he disliked being on this side of the desk. He watched Robert Carter, assessing his every move, every inflection. It was a habit born of years of working in a federal agency. Walter was very good at reading other people, looking for the strengths, and the weaknesses. He needed to be tonight.

"What is it that was so important, and who is this man?" Robert Carter demanded.

"He's Walter Skinner," John spoke quietly, but his voice was firm. "He came with me tonight because the matter we need to discuss is also about him."

John reached out and took Walter's hand. He looked at Walter, took a deep breath, and then turned back to his grandfather. "A resident at the hospital is going to send you a medical record. In that record there are accusations about my relationship with Walter. I want to be the one to tell you. Walter and I are lovers. I'm in love with him."

Walter had to give Carter credit, he controlled his reactions incredibly well. His eyes widened slightly, and a line of white appeared around his mouth as he compressed his lips tightly together. Beyond that, his posture never changed and he didn't flinch. It was a remarkable performance.

The silence seemed to go on forever, then Carter rose and came around the desk until he was standing in front of John. Walter watched him carefully and was just able to stop his hand before he backhanded John in the face.

"Don't you touch him," Walter growled the words through clenched teeth. He could feel his pulse pounding in his head. Carter's wrist pulled against his hand, but Walter only held him tighter.

Robert Carter stared at him, unintimidated. "Let go of me."

Walter squeezed his fist and saw Carter flinch. John Carter's hand on his arm was gentle.

"Let him go, Walter, please."

Walter looked at John, and as he released his grip on Robert Carter's arm, he saw John nod at him in silent thanks. He turned back to Carter, "Sit down."

Robert Carter stepped closer to Walter.

"Gramps, sit down. Please."

For several moments Robert Carter didn't move. Then Walter saw the slight shift in his posture as he relaxed a little. He turned and walked back to his chair and sat down. As Walter sat down he heard John Carter exhale with relief. He reached out and took John's hand again.

Robert Carter began asking terse questions. "How long?"

"About ten months."

"Who is he?"

"I told you Walter Skinner."

"Who is he?"

"You don't need to know anything else."

"I damn well need to know everything!"

"No, sir, you don't. I came here to tell you because I wanted you to hear it from me. That's all you need to know."

John Carter stood up.

"Sit down! You will leave when I tell you to leave!"

Walter felt a rush of adrenalin like a wave rising up through his body. He stood up and leaned across the desk until he was nearly nose to nose with Robert Carter. He reached inside his jacket and took his gun from his holster, laying it on the desk in front of Carter. "My name is Walter S. Skinner. I'm an Assistant Director at the Federal Bureau of Investigation."

Walter stood up and took his badge and a business card from his pocket. He threw both on the desk next to the gun. "Write it all down, Mr. Carter. Do whatever the hell you want to with the information."

"I'll ruin you."

Walter nodded. "I don't doubt you'll try."

"Walter."

Walter felt John's hand on his shoulder. He picked up his gun and badge, then sat back down.

John Carter stood in front of the desk. "Hurting him won't make this go away, Gramps."

"Your father will disown you."

"That's his choice."

"You'll never see a dime from this family again."

John Carter actually laughed and shook his head. Walter smiled watching him. The old man didn't have a clue what made his grandson tick.

"Gramps, I haven't taken a dime from the family for two years. I don't want the money. All I ever wanted from you and my father was your love and your respect."

"You won't have it now."

Walter wanted to reach out and touch John Carter, to reassure him, but he didn't. He could see the tremor in John's hands as he put them into his pockets. John's face had gone impassive again. He looked down at the floor. When he finally raised his head the silence in the room had dragged on for minutes.

"I never really had it, Gramps. Everything I've ever gotten from this family was conditional. Walter loves me. Me. John Carter. Not the Carter Corporation or the Carter money or the Carter name. If having that means I give up having to meet your demands and expectations, I don't think I'm losing much."

John Carter turned to Walter. "I'm ready to go now."

Walter rose. He waited until John Carter was almost out the door and then he turned to Robert Carter. "He's a good man, Mr. Carter. I'm smart enough to recognize that." He left the rest unsaid and followed John out into the hallway.

John Carter raked his hair back with his fingers. "That seemed to go well, didn't it?"

Walter burst out laughing. "I'd say about as expected."

John nodded, then turned to the servant. "We can show ourselves out. Thanks."

The servant nodded. "Yes, Dr. Carter."

John stopped, surprised, then he smiled. "You called me Dr. Carter."

The man smiled. "Yes, Dr. Carter."

"Thank you." John lunged at the man, grasping him in a tight hug. "Thank you."

When they got out to Walter's rental car, all of John Carter's self- possession fell away. Walter could clearly see the pain in his face. "Why don't we get something to eat. I need to build up my strength if I'm going to spend the night in your bed."

"I think oysters are out of season, Walter."

John placed his hand on Walter's thigh. Walter could feel the heat through the fabric of his suit pants. He shivered in the cool air of the car remembering the heat of John Carter's naked body against his. "I was thinking more along the lines of red meat and potatoes."

"Comfort food."

John turned his face and Walter reached out, pulling John's head closer, moving to kiss John's mouth. John's mouth was dry, but the taste was clean. Walter enjoyed the luxury of the feel of John's teeth and tongue against his tongue. As he pulled back his thumb stroked John's beard along his jaw. "That's comfort food. Now where do we go to get sustenance?"

"Red meat's bad for you."

"John Carter," Walter growled, "I want food and then you. In that order."

"God, you and Gramps."

"What about me and your grandfather?"

"Way too much testosterone. I kept waiting for one of you to start pissing in the corners."

"I'd already marked my territory."

John Carter's eyebrows raised into his hairline. "Excuse me?"

"And you'd marked me."

Walter started the car and drove down the long driveway to the road. John Carter didn't say anything until they were headed back into the city.

"So you're admitting that you belong to me."

Walter shrugged. "I'm admitting that we belong together."

John's hand squeezed his thigh. They were both silent, but smiling. Walter let his hand drop from the steering wheel to on top of John's hand. For a man who'd just thrown his career away, he felt really satisfied. Of course, it could be early senility. He relaxed into the seat, rubbing the back of John's hand with his palm. More likely it was just stupidity. Love could do that to a man.


End file.
